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He spotted something reddish-brown, on the stairs leading up. He was almost sure it was dried blood. On his way back down, he recorded each step he saw the splat marks. So far, he’d found six drops out of the eight he climbed and another single drop on the landing. The second flight had none he could locate, at least with his flashlight and the naked eye.
He’d bet, whoever was bleeding figured it out by the landing and took care of it before continuing. It would be another place forensics would have to check. He didn’t get his hopes up. Shit happened, people got hurt at work and bled. Often their Agents would find blood randomly in the oddest places. Nine out of ten times, it turned out to be nothing and he was almost sure that would be the case since whoever their thief was, left no evidence behind at the other scenes. If they happened to this time, he’d say they were getting too comfortable and too sloppy for their own good.
Which happened, but not as often as people might think it did. Contrary to popular belief, not all criminals were stupid either. Some were extremely smart and could become a member of Mensa if they wanted too.
After taking the final photo of what he thought could be blood, Robert sent a text to their forensics team to let them know where he’d found the substance. He didn’t leave until Murphy, their lead tech guy, poked his head over the railings and announced his arrival.
“You rang?” the younger guy teased.
Murphy was a jokester and often drove the other agents nuts with his stupid humor. He got away with it, only because he was brilliant, and did his job. Robert didn't fuss about his bullshit because the guy was good at his job. More than a few times, Murphy found the one piece of evidence they needed to close the case and help prosecutors get a guilty verdict.
Once he reported to Murphy what he’d found, he left the younger man to do his job and gather up what remained of their evidence. Robert then joined Duncan and Benjamin telling them both what he’d located in the stairwell. Neither of them grew excited by the prospect. Afterward, they spent another couple of hours walking through the museum, talking with the different employees and patrons who might have been inside when the police were called, before they ended up in the security room, trying to get the surveillance footage they desperately needed. Luckily for them, the museum kept a year’s worth of the information at an off-site location. They were currently burning the data of the last three months onto a CD that would be express shipped to their FBI office within seventy-two hours.
It wasn’t until they were back outside, waiting for the helicopter in the darkness of the closed park that Robert felt comfortable enough to discuss the case.
Duncan yawned. “Those security measures were no joke.”
“Have to be, most of the shit in there is either on loan or gifted to the museum. Either way, they’re supported by some rich benefactors.” Benjamin looked up from his notes. “I happened to be in Ms. Dickson’s office when she had to make the call to the family who gifted the museum with the painting. To say they weren’t pleased is an understatement.”
“What about the blood you found?” Duncan asked.
Robert shrugged. “Best guess, it doesn’t belong to our perp.”
“We could get lucky.” Duncan shrugged. “This seemed like a test and showing off all at the same time.”
Robert stood up straight. Duncan had a point. “We could. But whoever this is, they’re not stupid. If they were showing off, it’s because their leader wasn’t with them. It would also be a stupid way to go down for the crime after not getting caught after so many break-ins.” He went on to explain how the blood trail stopped, leading him to believe the person realized they were bleeding. “Our guy, he would’ve gone back and at the very least cleaned it up.”
Benjamin chuckled. “Kind of like a boy scout.”
Duncan frowned. “Excuse me?”
Benjamin replied, "When a scout goes camping, they're taught to leave no trace behind. So, whatever they bring in to a campsite, they're required to take it out with them when they leave."
Once the helicopter had landed and they were all buckled in and in the air, Damian spoke up. “I’ll begin running background checks on the employees. Past and present. Once I get them started, I’ll go back and start on the previous cases. Hopefully, we’ll find a connection.”
There was always a connection, they just couldn’t find it.
Benjamin flipped his notebook closed. “When we receive the video from this site, I’ll send it to you.” He tapped the corner of his right eye with his finger. “Fresh eyes and all that bullshit.”
Which reminded him. “I need to get you a secure laptop and access to our servers. You’ll be able to tap right into all the required systems.”
Duncan smirked. "No need. I've got my connections and backdoors. From what I've seen so far, they're far superior to that of the FBI."
“There are rumors you know.”
Duncan shrugged as if it were no big deal. "I'm sure there are. What's the newest one?"
“Would your association have anything to do with the individual by the name of Commander Rainer?” Robert asked.
Duncan chuckled. “I hate to sound like a cliché, but if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Benjamin snorted in disbelief. “You belong to R.O.O.T?” His friend looked at him in disbelief. “I thought you said he wasjusta PI.”
“He is?—”
“I’m not a part of R.O.O.T., I never was. My former partner is in a relationship with members of R.O.O.T., and I’ve spent time with them working on a case or two,” Duncan explained.
“Asher Rainer is a possessive son of a bitch. If you know or have connections to anyone within R.O.O.T, he considers you one of his. That means, as long as you’re alive, Asher has eyes on you and you’re under his protection,” Benjamin stated his tone edged in awe.
